Eye Opening Egyptians
by Nephthys Snape
Summary: An Immortal from Methos' past comes to Seacover after Byron's death needing guidance. Will this Immorntal be able to save Methos and MacLeod's friendship as well? What does the Egyptian pantheon have to do with it all?
1. Chapter 1

Staring at his beer as if he could find all the answers and secrets to the universe, Adam Pierson missed the bartender's knowing smile. Joe Dawson had seen him do the same thing frequently in the last several days. The only reason he could figure was that Duncan MacLeod was in another of his "honorable" or "brooding" moods; that or just plain brooding. Adam had a tendency to cause MacLeod to have sudden changes in demeanor and joviality. Either MacLeod was pissed at him or they were best of friends. No middle ground existed anymore, and Joe could tell Adam was about fed up with MacLeod. He guessed Adam would soon disappear. He hated that thought.

Joe's eyes instantly shot to the door as Adam tensed almost invisibly and looked there as well. He was torn between hoping MacLeod was the one to enter or that someone else walked in. He was not sure he could handle them ignoring one another until he mediated a truce or MacLeod fell off his high horse. When a slightly taller than average, seemingly slender woman with waist length pitch black hair, dark tan skin, and brilliant dark eyes stepped in; Joe began to worry about Adam receiving a challenge. Both her face and Adam's were blank of any expression. So, Joe looked her over and put his Watcher training and experience to use.

The woman did not appear to be a headhunter. Her outfit consisted of light khaki pants, a slightly baggy tan cow neck sweater, brown boots, and a lightweight knee length dark brown leather jacket. She also wore gold hoop earrings, a gold watch, a few gold rings, and a gold chain with a gold Eye of Horus; in addition to barely noticeable earth tone make-up. Joe caught his breath, hoping he was correct, as she approached the bar.

"Still fond of alcohol I see. When did you switch to the shitty stuff? As I recall, you used to have some semblance of taste." Definitely not what Joe could have imagined. Adam just regarded her a moment before they both got face splitting grins and embraced in a tight, warm hug.

"It is good to see you, Child," Adam greeted fondly.

"And you, Old Man. You certainly are hard to track down. If I had not been keeping tabs on those late 'brothers' of yours as best I could, I would still be benighted to any idea of your whereabouts. Luckily, I ran into a mutual thieving friend of ours last week in Paris. She was quite talkative with the right persuasion."

Adam got a genuinely worried expression. "What did . . . "

"She's fine. I just pulled my hair and teeth trying to convince her that I really knew you, and we were on friendly terms. Though, I considered torture just so I would not have to put up with her smugness."

Adam chuckled. "I understand, believe me."

"I was shocked to find out she knows you." She gave him a questioning gaze.

"Yes, well that would be the Highlander's fault not mine. He has a big mouth that just cannot stay shut sometimes. He is way too damn noble and chivalrous." Adam's expression became dark for a second then went back to blank.

"Ah, Duncan. Yes, he is like that. Seeing as he knows certain things . . . I am surprised you still have your head, Old Man." She glanced at Joe then shot Adam a glare.

He took the non-subtle hint. "Joe Dawson, this is . . ."

"Dr. Samantha Lorann Adams," she filled in while extending her hand. Once his hand found hers, she snuck an inconspicuous glance at his wrist and smiled. "I have heard you are quite the musician, Mr. Dawson. I hope to have the pleasure of hearing you perform."

"The pleasure would be mine to perform for such a lovely lady, Dr. Adams." Joe smiled back.

"Dr. Adams?" Adam asked with an expression of mixed shock and smugness. "Why haven't . . ."

"Actually, I have. Seems I have a tendency to get caught in trying situations where my current persona's abilities are not those which can save that person's life. I just like being Samantha Adams. Though, some things from the last time are better left forgotten." Her face fell and she looked away. "I'm sorry I am glad he is dead," she whispered so softly Joe only heard the breath of her voice. Adam, however, just understood her. "Well, Old Man, now that I know you are here, I must find a hotel. Meet me back here in a couple hours?"

"Sure, Kid," he responded still confused by her whispered statement. They embraced again and she left. Though Joe thought she looked like she was escaping.

"Adam? You heard her, didn't you? What did she say?" Joe cut straight in.

"She said she was sorry she was glad he is dead. She could only have meant Byron, but I do not know why. I thought they got on fine." Adam returned to staring at his beer in thought.

"From the way she talked, I gather she knows . . ."

"She knows exactly who and what I am; sometimes better than I do."

"How . . ." Adam cut him off again.

"Only she can decide to tell you her personal history, and until she does I won't tell you mine that involves her. I have some things to do. I'll see you in a couple hours." Adam threw back the rest of his beer and shrugged into his coat. Joe just watched in confusion and curiosity as he left. Suddenly a thought hit him.

'She knows MacLeod. Perhaps she can . . .' Joe smiled to himself and came up with an excuse to call Duncan to the bar. He decided to tell the truth. Adam was meeting an old friend and Joe needed some company. Tuesday nights were not the busiest.

"Sure, Joe. I was planning on stopping by tonight anyhow. I'll see you in a couple hours." Duncan MacLeod hung up the phone. He was curious about this old friend of Adam's. Joe did not mention the person being immortal; and, knowing Methos' ways, he highly doubted the person was. Still, there was something in the way Joe had spoken that led him to believe he needed to see this friend. Grabbing his coat, MacLeod left his loft to run some quick errands before going to Joe's.

Joe swiped at the bar absent mindedly, waiting for one of the immortals to arrive. MacLeod would probably be the first. Joe knew his curiosity would get the better of him. He only hoped he was not making a mistake in bringing the Highlander into this reunion. Of course, he had said that he was going to drop by anyhow. Joe looked at the time again and sighed. Adam would probably be the last to arrive. He would take all the time he could to prepare himself for any occurrence that might take place. Namely, MacLeod showing up and making a nuisance.

Just as Joe was beginning to wonder if any of them would show, Adam walked through the door. Joe shook his head. Perhaps he had not realized how much Adam wanted to speak with Samantha. With a slight nod in Joe's direction, Adam made his way to a table in the corner. He situated himself so he could see the door and the room as well. Joe could tell he was anxious to speak with his friend, but he was also sure that Adam anticipated MacLeod's presence.

As if on cue to that thought, Duncan walked through the door. He walked straight to the bar never even glancing in Adam's direction. Joe thought that was strange. Adam's face displayed a similar look of shock. His brow was lifted and his lips were slightly pursed. He motioned for a beer. Joe was happy to have an excuse to go over.

"What's with him? You called him didn't you, Joe?" Adam asked as soon as the beer hit the table.

"I don't know what's going on in that mind of his, and yes I called him but only to have some company. Tuesdays are dull and my normal company is a bit preoccupied tonight." Joe snapped.

"I wasn't accusing you, Joe. Well, I was, but I wasn't blaming you. I figured you would after Samantha let on that she knows him. She can't fix our friendship, Joe. I'm not sure anyone or thing can."

"I can't accept that!" Joe huffed. He hated seeing his friends throw away such a potential friendship.

"Joe . . ." Adam began. The feel of a new presence took his attention to the door before he could say anything. He smiled as Samantha walked in. Then, he glanced to see MacLeod's reaction. The shock on the Highlander's face was priceless. Adam watched as Duncan stared unaware he was doing so. Samantha smiled at Duncan.

"Hello, Highlander. I believe it has been a while." She held out her hand. He was slow to react. When he did, a huge grin spread across his face.

"Luella Darcie. I never imagined seeing you here." He took her hand, but instead of a hand shake, she received a hug. She grunted as she landed against his chest. Inwardly she cringed. She hated his usually touchy feely attitude with his friends even though she knew it was only his way of showing how he felt.

"Yes, well you owe Amanda for that." Samantha stepped back with a warm smile. She glanced back to Adam's corner. "Perhaps, after I talk with the Old Man, you and I can catch up."

"Old Man?" Duncan looked genuinely confused. Surely she did not know that Adam was Methos. If she did, how and for how long. He also wondered how much she knew of his past.

"Don't play me for a fool, Duncan. I know you know. Amanda told me all about Kalas and how you met him." Samantha regarded Duncan thoughtfully. He would protect Methos. She was grateful the ancient one had found a strong friend and ally he could trust.

"How do you know who he is?"

"I'll tell you later. First I must speak with him. I . . . I want you to know that Byron was not what he appeared to be. He had a side that neither you nor the Old Man ever saw. You may know now that you have his Quickening. He was capable of doing things far worse than drugs. Drugs are nothing really. I heard all about what happened. The kid made his own choice. Still . . . Byron got what he deserved. I will do my best to make the Old Man realize that. By the way, it's Samantha now." She averted her eyes. Then, she turned to Adam… Methos.

Methos stood as she joined him at the table. Joe smiled his greeting. "What can I get for you?"

"A glass and a bottle of your oldest and best scotch." She sat and stared at the table. She did not look up as Methos sat down.

"So, what brings you to this lovely little boring town?" Methos took a pull of his beer. He watched her stare at the surface of the table. She did not seem to register that he had spoken to her. "Child, what is wrong? Even you are not usually this quiet." He looked up at Joe as the Watcher sat down the glass and bottle.

"You want a glass too, Adam?"

"Not yet. I'm not sure either of us will have a stiff drink quite yet. We have to talk first. Thanks, Joe." Methos smiled at him. Joe smiled back, glanced at Samantha, and turned back to the bar and Duncan.

"I . . . I heard about Byron, Methos," she whispered. She continued to stare at the table. Methos was curious about her demeanor. She had never been scared to talk to him about anything. She was frightened to tell him something. Her nervousness was more visible the longer she sat and said nothing more.

"Look at me, Child. You said, or whispered, earlier that you were glad that someone was dead. I assumed then you meant Byron. Why?" Methos took one of her hands lightly in his. He felt small trimmers running through her muscles.

"He . . . He had a side you never saw. He did things to women. You know he was a ladies man. His favorite type was the ones that said no to his advances. He liked the challenge. When . . . When he had enough fun trying to seduce them, he . . . he . . . I can't do this!" She stood abruptly and fled. Methos had a look of pure shock, unusual considering he usually took everything in stride. He looked at Joe, ignoring Duncan's glare, and indicated he would be back. In his hast, he left behind his sword and most of his weapons, all of which were hidden in his coat.

Duncan started after them. "Don't, Mac. She is upset about something to do with Byron. I noticed it when she was here earlier. I think the only one that she has even considered telling is him. She won't do it if you try to be protective. He's not going to hurt her. He left his coat and sword in here."

Duncan looked at Joe as if the man was speaking an alien language. He shot a look at Methos' empty seat and saw his coat. "He never goes out without his sword, not even just to step out the door. He's too paranoid. What's going on? I wish I knew how well they know each other. She never looses her composure and he never plays the considerate listener."

"Well, she said something earlier about having been keeping tabs of his 'brothers'. So, she knows about the horsemen. How much, I don't know. He said she knew what and who he is sometimes better than he does. I think she may be older than you may think."

Duncan regarded Joe then the bar. "Yes, I believe she may be. Amanda met her when she was with Rebecca. I met her through Connor. He said something about her having known Ramirez." He threw back his scotch and gazed at the door.

"Sagira!" Methos yelled after her. She froze.

"I haven't been little in a long time, Old Man." She spoke just loud enough for him to hear.

"Okay, how about Nath . . ."

"Don't!" She screamed. "Don't . . ." She sunk to her knees in a bout of sobs he had never seen the like from her. He ran to and embraced her. She struggled to get free but eventually stopped. She was much to weak in her current state. All she could do was let the words spill from her. "I have never had a lover, you know? Yet, I no longer have that pure gift to give to someone."

He ran his hand through her hair. "What do you mean?" He shot an approaching couple, who seemed to want to make sure everything was alright, a blood freezing glare. They quickly detoured around them without comment.

"My virginity was stolen from me, Methos. I had protected it for millennia and then someone raped me. He took it away and now I can't give it to someone who I know will appreciate it." She buried her face into his neck.

"When? Who?" He kept his voice soothing and continued to stroke her hair.

"Byron," she whispered. If he had not already had a pretty good guess, he would not have clearly understood her soft response. "I know he was your friend, but I am glad he is dead. He is lucky MacLeod did it. I would not have been merciful if I had ever found the courage to find and face him. I would have bathed . . ."

"Stop, Child. Don't return to that. Times have changed and I know you may have felt better, but does that make it right after you realize what you did to a living being. Could you have lived with his blood all over your soul?"

"Yes. I could have. I live with all the blood of my other enemies on my soul. What is one more splash of crimson?" She pulled back. He let her go. "I do not regret anything I have ever done in war or otherwise. I did what I had to do to survive. Isn't that what I was taught to do?"

"Yes, Child. That is what you were taught. Neither do I regret what I did, but that does not make it right in some people's eyes. Let's return to that scotch, hmmm?" He stood and held out his hand. She hesitantly took hold. He squeezed gently. "MacLeod is probably planning my funeral as we speak. He probably thinks I did something unspeakable to you to cause you to run like that."

She froze. She had let her emotions overthrow her control. "I ran in front of everyone. I showed weakness to the child. He . . ."

"Will be your knight in shining armor. I thought you knew him better than that."

She sighed and sagged into his side. "I'm tired, Methos. I have nothing left to offer this world. Why does it insist on keeping me? Why do I fight to survive?"

He held her tight as they entered the bar. Joe and Duncan both looked at them intently. Adam just guided Samantha to their table. He helped her to sit then whispered that he would be right back. He had to retrieve another tumbler.

"I need that glass now, Joe." He told the Watcher. Then, he turned to MacLeod. "Well, I'll say one thing, Mac. Byron is very damn lucky you took his head. If the little one had gotten a hand on him, he would have suffered greatly. And, after hearing some insightful news, I would have done worse. Just because I'm not Death openly doesn't mean I can't be. He would have suffered beyond anything you could ever imagine. No one, and I mean absofuckinglutely no one, hurts that little one."

Duncan looked at Methos dumbfounded. He did not know what to say. Of course, he wanted to ask what Byron had done, but the time did not seem right for that. So, he nodded and remained silent. Which he knew could be just as bad. Methos took things funny sometimes. Everything always had an adverse affect then what you were going for.

"No questions, Highlander?" Methos looked at him with a inquiring expression then smiled. "Thanks. I don't feel up to answering to anything but that bottle of scotch back at the table." Methos clapped him on the shoulder, took the tumbler, and returned to Samantha. They sat there in silence and polished off two whole bottles before Joe put his foot down. Neither of them said a word then entire time.

"You two have had enough. I know you recover faster but you have had enough. Mac can take you to wherever it is your sleeping it off."

Methos saluted him, letting just a bit of his intoxication to take over. "Yes, sir, Mr. Dawson, sir," he said sarcastically. "We're fine, Joe. Stop fussing." Samantha giggled. "Well, I'm fine. She's had twice as much as I have, if not thrice as much. She was putting back faster than I could pour for her and drink mine. Girl always had a way with whiskey. Give her an hour. She'll be as sober as you are."

"Well, you have fifteen minutes before I kick the two of you out. Still, let Mac drive you, okay?" Joe's eyes pleaded with Methos. They did not work.

"I'll drive her to her hotel. We still need to talk. I had best start while she is still slightly inebriated. Otherwise, I might as well pull her teeth and toe nails." Methos stood as if he had never touched any alcohol. "Come on, Sagira. Let's get you to a bed. I think you may be drunk enough to talk and not remember what you tell me. I can only hope, huh?" She just giggled and threw and arm around his waist. He tensed as he noticed her hand was precariously close to . . . No, on his ass. He ignored it as drunken miscalculation until she pinched him. He jumped about a foot in the air and away from her. Joe and Duncan looked on confused and amused. Samantha just smiled. The reaction was not typical Methos.

"Is there a problem, Adam?" Duncan asked with laughter in his voice.

"Luckily I don't bruise easily. That pinch would have left a hell of one." Methos cautiously approached her again. "No more of that, Child."

"What?" She seemed to honestly not know what he was referring to.

"You know what, Child. Leave my derrière alone!" Samantha giggled while Joe and Duncan chuckled.

"But it's such a nice ass. My hand couldn't help itself. Besides, I've wanted to do that for thousands of years now." She pouted up at him. "You aren't mad are you? I don't like when you are mad at me. You can be so unreasonable."

He kept up his indifferent façade for as long as he could. Finally, he caved. "No, I am not mad at you. Just don't do it again." Her pout grew and he could see in her eyes that she had not planned to stop with pinching his ass. "Sagira . . ." he began in a fatherly tone. Before he could finish, if he even had something to say, she turned on her toe and headed for the door. Methos growled quietly to himself.

"Adam?" Joe looked at him questioningly.

"She wants something I'm not sure I can give her. We have always kept our relationship platonic. But . . . Because of Byron, she needs more right now. He forcefully took away her virginity. I'm kind of surprised her body didn't heal itself. Still, I guess it's the thought that her first time was rape by a man she thought was her friend and a respectful man. The things I could do to that man if he were alive. I'm sorry I got upset with you, Mac. I had no idea he could stoop so low." He took a deep breath, gathering his strength and control. "Well, I had better go catch her." Methos bid them goodnight and took off after Samantha.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sagira!" She continued to walk away. Methos felt like gritting his teeth. She could be so petulant. "Kanikalayla, stop right there!" Methos called after her retreating form. As he caught up to her, he could see she was quickly sobering. "I am getting sick of chasing you down, Child. Now, why don't you allow me to drive you to your hotel." He did not ask. He knew she would refuse. She would more than likely argue with him the way it was. So, he was not giving her the choice. He would make her let him take her back to her room.

"I do not need your sympathy, Old Man. I never have and I never will. I am no longer drunk so why don't you just leave me the bloody hell alone. We can talk again tomorrow evening." She turned away from him and continued down the street.

"I was not asking, Kanikalayla. Get in the truck."

"Would you please pick one name and stick to it, dammit!" She turned on him. He could see that her previous sadness and drunken joy were replaced with fury. In a way, he was not surprised. She had quite the short fuse.

"Child . . ."

"I am not a child, Old Man. I wish you would not treat me as one. I am tired and have some things I need to take care of tomorrow. If you will excuse me," she snapped. Once again she turned to leave.

Grabbing her arm, Methos stopped her. "Kanikalayla, you will allow me to drive you to your hotel. After tonight, I would not be surprised to find you gone tomorrow if I allow you to go alone. I am not asking, Child."

"I am walking, Old Man. Unless, of course, you want to draw swords over it." She glared at him calculating every muscle twitch and movement.

"I am not going to fight over . . ."

"Then I am walking. Goodnight, Methos." She shoved him away and turned back up the street. Her steps were heavier and her arms were tight in their movements.

He watched her go until she was about six yards away. He felt Duncan behind him and knew that Joe was there as well. He knew also that calling after her again would probably not go over well, but he had to try. He had to know that she would not run away; that she would not disappear from his life again. She meant too much to him. She was a sister, a daughter, a best friend. Her presence had been missed more than he had ever realized. She had filled a hole he had not known he had just by stepping through Joe's door. "Kanikalayla . . ."

Before he could plead for her to turn around, she had. Only this time, she came at him with her sword, a look of fury on her face. He barely had time to register that she had drawn on him and get his own sword up to defend. Her sword bore down on his with more strength than he remembered her having. He became aware that she was running off emotion. Soon she would collapse. If not, he would have to do some pretty fancy foot work to get out of her wrath. He was not sure that she would not take his head in her state of mind.

She stepped back and faked a jab from the right. He anticipated the bluff and blocked her attack from below. The upward strike, though blocked, knocked him back a few steps. He had not foreseen the strength in that attack either. As he stumbled back she came at him again with a downward slash. He blocked most of the blow, but her sword caught his left shoulder before he could stop her blade.

Deciding that defense would not work. Methos switched to offense. He pushed a little harder than he would in a sparring match as he thrust her sword away from his. She stumbled slightly but regained her footing before he could take any advantage. So, he chose to disarm her. After seeing a small opening, he used a move he knew she had never seen him use. He caught her hand between the thumb and forefinger as she moved to block a blow, slicing through skin, muscle, tendon, and perhaps nicking the bones. Her grip loosened and he wedged his sword between her hand and her sword. With a flip of his wrist, her sword flew several feet away.

She fell to her knees in defeat. He stepped up to her and placed his sword at her throat.

"Kanikalayla, I know I trained you better than this. You have gotten soft."

"No softer than you, Adam Pierson."

"I don't believe you are in a position to be smart, Child. Now, should I take your head or are you going to let me drive you to your hotel?"

"Take my fucking head! I don't want it anymore! Perhaps it will bring you more happiness than it ever gave me." She screamed then closed her eyes and leaned into his sword. Her skin split open slightly. Sparks danced across Methos' sword. He did not move. Duncan was looking around trying to figure out what to do while Joe looked on, stunned.

"I don't want your head, Child. It would probably give me more grief than it already does." He continued to play casual. Then, she leaned forward harder. His blade sunk a good inch or so into her neck. He could not chance her truly committing suicide. He knew she was going to. Methos yanked his sword away. He was not going to allow her to kill herself, especially not on his sword.

Kanikalayla, as she had been known as a child growing up in Egypt, did not move. She stayed on her knees as her blood poured over her. She coughed up even more as some ran down her cut larynx into her lungs. All four of them were aware that she was dieing.

"You re . . . realize I am g . . .going t . . .to be p . . .pi . . .pissed when I . . ." she rasped as she stared at the ground until Methos cut her off. Her voice was a gargle from the blood.

"Don't hurt yourself, Sagira." He watched with a blank expression as her head fell forward then her body. She was dead, or as dead as they got under most circumstances. He did not move. She was going to wake where she lay, in her own blood, as punishment for what she had just done. Of course, MacLeod had other ideas.

"Are you just going to leave her there?" Duncan looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"Yes, I am. She had no right to kill herself, at least not on my sword. I taught her better than this. I raised her better than this. There is something going on here that has nothing to do with Byron. I intend to find out what." Methos watched her body. He knew she would not wake for quite a while. An injury to the neck never healed fast and she had lost a lot of blood. He suddenly noticed the stickiness of his left hand. He had forgotten about the injury he had taken. Pulling at his coat and sweater, he saw that his shoulder was nearly healed. With a sigh, he wiped his sword on his coat sleeve and put it away.

Scanning around them, he spotted Kanika's sword. He walked over and picked it up. He wiped it upon his sleeve as well before examining it. The sword was heavier than those carried by most women. The blade was straight but ended much like a katana despite being double-edged. A small blood groove ran about eighteen inches, centered between the sides and the ends. The blade was about three feet long, an inch and a half wide, and a half centimeter thick. The hilt looked to be crystal, but he knew different. The hilt was constructed of pure, flawless diamond, etched and polished to accommodate grip, set in platinum. Onyx inlayed in the platinum further adorned the end and cross. The over all length of the sword was about forty-four inches; larger than his Ivanhoe.

"That's a beautiful sword," Joe interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find the Watcher smiling at him. He had not known he had lost himself in thought.

"Yes, it most certainly is. One of a kind." Methos again focused on the sword.

"If I ask how old it is will you answer me?"

"Old, Joe. Older than you would imagine. She started a trend in some cities with it. Many of the materials it is made of were not well known until long after this was crafted. Archaeologists would die to get their hands on this."

"It's large as well. I'm surprised she can wield it so well," MacLeod joined the conversation. Despite having known her for a while, he had never saw her use her sword or even take it out.

Methos was silent a moment. Finally, he decided that he might as well tell them part of her history. Served her right. "Yes, but she was trained to be able to wield many different weapons of many different sizes, shapes, and weights. I wanted her to survive. I pushed her hard but sometimes, now that I think back, she pushed herself even harder. She never complained, never fought that I was too rough. The harder I pushed, the more she seemed to want to participate. At first I thought she was just trying to show off. Then, as time grew and we became closer friends instead of just teacher and pupil or father and daughter, I realized she was training for something other than me, other than the game. She raised her goals every time she came close to fulfilling them. I realized she saw her training as her only reason to live and she wanted a reason to live. She also wanted to be good at something honorable.

"When she was a young child, about eight or nine, her mother was killed in a famine, her father was dead, and no family wanted her. I knew the child was to become one of us and could not allow her to die so young. She would have more than likely been killed for pick pocketing, at which she had grown quite efficient. I took her and began her training before she became immortal. I didn't want her to. I hoped she would grow old, die happy. However, one day, while I was at the market and had left her to clean at home, a man happened by our home. He was a foreigner. A Nubian, I believe, and an immortal. He took a fancy to her twenty-two year old body. She was, is beautiful. Feeling that she was one of us, and being an archer, he hid and shot her through the heart.

"He had no idea she had been training in case of something like this for over half her life. When she came to, she was disoriented. He calmly told her what she was and that he had happened by and found her dead. She asked him how she had died and he told her that he had pulled an arrow from her back. Noticing the arrows and bow he carried, she asked to see the offending object. When he handed her the arrow that had killed her she laughed in his face. She told him that only an idiot would not see that the arrow matched those he carried and realize that he had been the perpetrator.

"About that time, he noticed she had not asked about being immortal and had not gotten upset. I wish I could have seen the look on the man's face when she told him he had already explained it and she had gotten it the first time. She's always been quick on the up take and even quicker with her tongue. Anyhow, once she was feeling herself again, she told him she appreciated him dislodging his arrow from her and bid him a good day. He informed her he had slain her because he found her appealing and wanted her for his. She asked what he meant, and he told her that she was to become his for his pleasure. That he would take her against her will painfully if she refused.

"Kanika calmly told him to allow her to collect a few of her belongings. She then went into the house, got a bag and put random things into it, including her favorite sword. She returned to him and said she was ready to leave but wanted one last look at her home from a large sand dune off in the distance. He granted her request and they traveled there in silence.

"Once they reached the dune, she sat down the bag and pulled out her sword. Again, I wish I could have seen the look on the Nubian's face. He laughed at her when she challenged him. He told her there was no way she could defeat him. Then she boasted, 'My father taught me how to use this. I've been training for thirteen years. My father, if not by birth, is an Immortal like you. I believe there is a fair chance I will defeat you.' She told me he laughed again and told her that thirteen years was nothing compared to experience in battle.

"So, they fought. I returned home just shortly after they had left. I was surprised to find her missing because she had never left her chores undone or left without my permission, which she rarely got if I was not accompanying her. Then, I saw the arrow and the blood. Despite knowing she was immortal now, I got very worried. I had no idea who had killed her or where they had taken her. That's when I heard the sound of a Quickening. My heart nearly stopped at the thought that an Immortal had murdered her just to take her head. I raced toward the sound, the smell, the sight. My mind was racing with the fear that I had failed her and she was gone.

"When I came upon her dead body and the Nubian's decapitated one, I wept. I'm not sure if it was joy or sorrow. She was going to live, but she was immortal. She was doomed to live to kill her own, be it in defense or otherwise. After she awoke, her training intensified and so did her determination. I think the reason he chose to kill her is why she has refused to ever bed anyone. And Byron took that all away from her." Methos took a deep breath and looked over at Kanika's body. Her neck was healing faster than he thought it would, but she would not wake for a little while yet.

"So, you raised her as your daughter?" Joe asked. He was not used to hearing Methos talk about something serious and personal in such length and with such hidden emotion.

"Yes, I did."

"And yet you leave her to wake in her own blood?" Duncan accused. Methos rolled his eyes.

"I told you, Highlander. She had no right to shove her neck on my sword. This will speak more than any words I could bestow upon her," Methos snapped in irritation. Duncan scowled at him.

"So, she is Egyptian?" Joe asked to change the subject for at least a moment. He wasn't up for watching another fight.

"Yes," Methos answered already tired of questions. Had he not said enough for the evening? Had he not entrusted enough to them without her permission.

"How old is she, Methos? As her friend, I would like to know." Duncan gave up on getting to move her.

"As her friend, ask her yourself." Methos' irritation carried into his voice.

"Come on, Methos. Do you really think she will care if I know?"

"She knows Joe is a Watcher. She saw his tattoo when they met earlier. I'm not sure she would want them to know she exists let alone how old she is." Methos was growing agitated as well.

"Off the record. You know I leave a lot of shit out of Mac's Chronicles about you. So what difference would this make? Besides, she's already in them. I checked."

"I am aware of that. I have read them myself. Still, if you want to know, ask her!" Methos snapped before sighing and turning away. "I'm sorry, Joe, but I am a bit protective."

"I understand. You have nothing to apologize for. This, on top of everything else that has happened recently. I am surprised you're still around, and even more surprised you haven't lost it." Joe smiled at him as he glanced back.

Methos chuckled. "Thanks, Joe. Knew I could count on you to forgive, pity, and chide me all at the same time with so few words."

"Yeah, well what can I say? I'm wise for my years." Joe shuffled his feet. "Even though that's not saying anything in mortal terms. I'm getting too old to stand in the street for ages like this."

"Go home, Joe. I have her sword. The fighting, physically, is through. Now the verbal, let's say this may prove to be a very long night." Methos moved to stand closer to Kanika as she gasped for breath.

"I'm not going anywhere," Joe retorted as he and Duncan joined Methos.

"Yeah, I figured as much when I said that." Methos responded with a smirk though his eyes never left Kanika.

Kanika pushed herself up onto her hands and knees looking around wildly for a moment. She coughed up flakes of dry blood and reached for her throat. "Why wouldn't you do it?" Her voice was weak and raspy. She knew she was going to have a light scar. Neck wounds tended to do that.

"Why ask a question to which you know the answer?"

"Don't start with your psychobabble. All I wanted was freedom." She stood up quicker than she should have. The world spun around even after she clamped her eyes shut as hard as she could. She didn't even know she was falling until she landed in Methos' arms.

"Freedom? I too want to be free but yet I fight to survive. I'm afraid of what my quickening would do to someone, and I'm curious to see where the world will go from here. But, most of all, I survive because of life. I enjoy watching mortals. They have no sense of time despite knowing their time is short. They act like they have forever when they truly have but a moment."

"I've been alone way too long, Methos. I have never had a companion to share my heart, my dreams, my nightmares, my bed." Her voice became quite at the end. She turned and looked up at him. "I concede. You may drive me to my hotel."

"Well, you didn't give up without fight."

"I was taught to go down fighting if you are going to go down." She smiled up at him. "May I have Athanasia back now?"

Duncan shared a glance with Joe as they watched the exchange. They both knew he could give her more, exactly what she wanted.

"Athanasia?" Joe asked more to remind them of their presence.

"Her sword, and no, you may not." Methos answered them both without looking up at Joe.

"Look, Old Man, I have no need or want for your head."

"I know, but I am not going to have another round of your suicide attempt. I think we should continue discussing this inside your hotel room." He turned to the other two men. "I believe I've already said goodnight once." Taking Kanika's hand, he started for his truck. Then, he stopped. He turned to Joe and rolled his eyes. "Go ahead."

"What?" Joe looked around confused. He did not think he had missed anything.

"Ask her so you will stop hounding me," Methos snapped.

"Huh? . . .Oh! Samantha, I was curious . . . Well, what I mean is . . ."

"Gods, Joe. Spit it out!" Methos' patience was gone.

"You don't just spit this out to a woman. As old as you are, I would think that you would know that," Joe snapped back.

"How old are you?" Duncan asked for Joe as well as himself. She chuckled.

"It's alright, Joe. I have been anticipating that question from both of you since you found out I know the Old Man. Let's see . . . I was one hundred years old, round about, when I met Imhotep; so, I am around forty-seven hundred years old." Needless to say, their jaws fell as far as they could. She and Methos shared a glance before they burst out laughing. "What! Can't a woman survive? I mean, the Old Man is older than me. So, I am no big phenomenon."

"But, as you said, you are a woman. Women don't seem to last as long in the game as men. Though, there are exceptions, but none as old as you," Duncan responded.

"And you know that for sure how? Because you guessed my age?" She shot him a pointed look.

"Okay, so maybe some are older than they seem, but I am sure there aren't any as old as you. No where near."

"Well, the seer is quite old for your train of thought, as well as Amanda," she said knowing he more than likely had no clue who she was referring to.

"Who?" Duncan and Joe asked as one.

"Cassandra," Methos answered quietly.

"You know her?" Duncan seemed surprised.

"We've met," she answered flatly.

"You sound like you don't like her," Joe observed.

"I don't. End of story so don't ask." She looked at Methos. "I believe we were leaving." She turned and walked to his truck seeing as it and MacLeod's were the only vehicles there.

"Did you know . . ."

"No, Mac. I had no idea," he answered before following her and unlocking the doors. They got in his truck in silence. Duncan and Joe watched until they could no longer see the truck.

"So, she knows Cassandra. I wonder how they met." Joe turned to the bar.

"I don't know, but I bet Methos is going to try to find out. I just hope they don't get into another fight. She seems rather fragile. I am a bit worried their friendship is heading for rocky ground. Good night, Joe. I'll be sure to stop by tomorrow."

Joe raised a hand in parting. MacLeod mimicked the motion and got in his car. He blew the horn as he drove away. Joe turned and watched him go as well before shaking his head and returning to the warm confines of his bar.


	3. Chapter 3

Methos, having yet to calm down enough to even think about Adam Pierson, shut his truck off and locked the doors. "We have to talk. Here or in there. The choice is yours."

Kanika eyed him a slight moment before unlocking her door and climbing out. She said not a word as he followed her. Unlocking her room, she motioned him inside. "What now, Old Man?"

"What is it you are not telling me? Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with Byron." He sat down on the double bed. She sighed and walked to the window. He watched her closely for any sign of what type of information she was with-holding. He did not like her demeanor.

"I have been experiencing dreams. Premonitions, if you would. They seem to come to light if I ignore them. So, I came here seeking you out because I know something bad is to happen. You are not necessarily the one causing the damage or the one in danger. The Highlander and a young man are involved, as well as Mr. Dawson. A demon is afoot, Methos. I can feel it in my soul, my bones, on my skin. All four of you must be careful."

"And you couldn't have had Amanda relay the message? That's not all, Sagira." Methos continued to watch her. She neither looked at him nor spoke for a lengthy time. Just as he started to stand, she broke the silence.

"I am being chased. Someone is after me. Someone who doesn't play fair or alone. I have barely escaped twice now. Even with my guard up, they corner me. I don't know who they are. I don't know what they want. They have control of things most mortals think of as hocus pocus. I am afraid they may have the ears of gods better left dead to the current world. Frankly, I am worried what they want me for. I wonder if I am the only one they are searching for. I have no idea how to stop them no matter what the answers." She lowered her eyes from the window to the floor. "I really should have phoned or something. I have put you in danger. You hate being placed into a remotely dangerous situation. Should have thought about that, I guess."

Methos did stand after this. He went to her and held her tightly. "I love you, you know. If MacLeod had done this . . . Yeah, I would have been upset. But you? Never. You are actually one of the few things I would hand my head over to protect." He took her chin into his hand. Tilting her head up, he came to a quick epiphany. He could very well give her exactly what she wanted, if not more. "Kanika . . ."

"Please? I want it so much it hurts. You are the only one I have ever wanted." She eased up and captured his lips, gently. He did not respond verbally, whether it be because her lips prevented doing so or the fact that he had no rebuttal. However, he gradually responded to her kiss. They stood locked together for many minutes. Time meant nothing to them. Eventually, she pulled back. "Methos, I don't want you to . . ."

"Trust me. I can very well do this. I want to, for you and for me." He leaned in first this time. The kiss was shorter and more heated. "Are you sure you can do this?" He asked as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"With you. I trust you. Just take it slow. Show me how to do it right. Show me that this can be a mutual act." She moved her head to his shoulder and kissed his neck. His head fell back. He stared at the ceiling a moment as the pleasure washed over him. Still, his mind could not stop analyzing the situation. Here he stood with his pupil, daughter, sister, best friend. The same young woman he had watched grow; that he had raised as his own for so long. He had taught her so much. Why not teach her this, too?

Methos realized he had always found her attractive. How could he not? But, how would their relationship change? Would they still want this come dawn? If so, then what? He had never been with another Immortal in commitment. He was not sure he could hold down to that long of a commitment. Though, in essence he had always been committed to her. Just not romantically. Would things really change that much?

He hadn't realized he had been thinking so long until he noticed she was no longer kissing his neck but looking at him inquisitively. "If this is going to be a . . ." She started when she knew he was paying attention to her.

"No, I was just thinking about . . . Never mind. Shall we?" He asked despite knowing the question might take away from the activities to follow.

Kanika only nodded and kissed his nose. He smirked at her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Then, he took his turn to neck with her. Starting at her jaw, he slowly nibbled, licked, and sucked his way to the baggy neck of her sweater. "This has got to go," he announced before sliding his hands slowly up her sides underneath. They skimmed over her breasts with barely there caresses to her nipples. His hands continued on up her arms until his hands came out to join hers. He let his mouth fall from her neck long enough to comment. "I believe you and I could fit in this thing along with MacLeod."

"Sorry, he's not invited," she whispered back huskily just before catching his lips. His mouth had no trouble finding its way back to her neck. Then, he ducked down and stuck his head under her sweater. She nearly lost her balance when his mouth sought and found a nipple through her black lace bra. Methos brought his arms down hers massaging them with his fingers in a small circular pattern. He continued his massage down to her waist where he unbuttoned her pants then slid his hands down the back.

Switching to the other nipple, Methos started to nibble. Kanika bucked into him and only his firm grasp on her ass kept her from falling backwards. "Methos . . ." The name was a soft moan. He smiled against her breast before trailing kisses up her sternum. He reluctantly let go of her ass to remove her sweater. She sighed in relief as the fabric was thrown across the room. The sweater had been most hot and confining, despite being large enough for both of them to fit.

Methos took a half step back to look at her. He suddenly noticed just how beautiful she really was. He also knew this was the last chance for them to stop. Not wanting to upset by asking, he just looked her over for a slight moment. If she was going to back out, he wanted to give her the chance. The superficial frown that was beginning to appear told him he either had to press forward or duck a punch. He chose the former.

With shaking hands, whether from anticipation, trepidation, or something else he couldn't pinpoint, Methos unclasped her bra. A tiny gasp escaped him as the lace slid down her arms and fell to the floor. Suddenly hesitant, he slowly took a gentle grasp of each breast. Kanika moaned and arched forward as his thumbs skimmed across her nipples. He again took to kissing her neck, continuing where the sweater had previously prevented.

Feeling underdressed compared to Methos, Kanika slowly pushed his shirt up and off before blindly throwing it to join hers. As Methos continued to assault her neck, jaw, ears, and shoulders; Kanika pulled her nails delicately over his nicely defined yet not exactly chiseled chest. She smirked at his ability to truly hide beneath his clothes. A gasp turned moan broke from her as his hands pushed her pants away so he could easily knead her ass and upper thighs. She stepped from her khakis, kicking them away. She felt silly standing there in her black lace thong and boots, but she was quickly forgetting everything but the man before her and what he was doing.

Taking a firm grip, Methos lifted her off the floor and held her tightly against him. Her arms automatically wound behind his neck for balance. So, he moved his hands down her legs, coaxing them to wrap around his waist. She moaned and arched as she met the rough texture of his jeans and the hardness straining against them. Methos ground his teeth together as she rubbed his erection. He turned them around and settled them down onto the bed. She raked her nails up his back as he ground into her, causing him to arch back. Her nails trailed over his shoulder and down over his nipples, stopping when a strangled sound emitted from his throat. Kanika ran her nails over his nipples again, smirking when the sound repeated.

She slid down the bed, rubbing his erection the whole way, until her mouth was even with his sensitive buds. Smirk still in place, she latched onto one and rolled it between her teeth as she sucked for all her worth. Moans, groans, and whimpering squeezed from Methos' throat as she began pinching and teasing his other nipple. She licked her way up to his mouth once she thought his nipples could take no more abuse.

His mouth met hers hungrily. They dueled with tongues for as long as their air supplies would allow. "You have always been a fast learner," Methos panted. She responded by arching up against his enclosed erection. His hiss was all the incentive she needed to wrap her legs back around his waist and grind into him. He grabbed her hips to halt the motion. "Not yet."

She mock pouted up at him as he slid her boots and socks from her feet. Then, he pulled away her last remaining clothing. Starting at her toes, Methos licked and suckled his way up one leg then the other. He paid extra attention to her sensitive hips. She bucked in an attempt to receive contact in the one spot he was avoiding. "Methos . . ." The groan brought a smug look to his face. The look grew as she kicked him in the ass in frustration.

Finally, he tentatively licked at her clit. She reacted as he had foreseen, bucking completely off the bed. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he continued to lick her. She whispered nonsense, whimpered, and begged. She nearly came off the bed again when his tongue lowered to penetrate her. Her hold on his head tightened. He had to grab her hips to prevent her from losing control.

Kanika writhed upon the bed as Methos continued to draw the pleasure out. Just as she felt the pleasure near its peak, he pulled away. A cry of frustration emerged from every part of Kanika. "Sorry, love, but you did want me to take it slow. I don't want you to have all the fun, anyhow." He smirked down at her. "This is your last chance . . ."

"You cannot be seriously asking me if I want to stop! There's no fucking way you are stopping!" She grabbed his head and brought there mouths together yet again, and again she ground their hips together. "Please, Methos," she pleaded. He made short work of his shoes, socks, pants and boxers.

"This may hurt. If you want me to stop, for any reason, tell me." He locked eyes with her and she nodded. He positioned his cock then slowly eased inside. Her head fell back and pushed against the mattress. Her mouth was open and her eyes tightly closed. She spread her legs as far as she could, wanting as much contact as she could receive. Once he was fully inside, she again wrapped her legs about him. He remained still, not wanting to go too fast for her. He waited for her to make the first move. She stayed still as well enjoying the feel of the fullness he gave her. Eventually, she pulled back and pushed forward, telling him to finish. Slowly, Methos rocked in and out of Kanika. He could not remember ever feeling so enclosed or experiencing such pleasure despite having been with countless women. Kanika did something to him no other woman had, and he had no idea what it was.

Kanika had never felt so full. She had actually never realized how empty she had been. Methos filled in more than a physical sensation. He was filling her soul and her heart. She just wasn't sure he would be able to continually do so. Not because she did not want him to but because he had a tendency to run. She also knew he had never made a commitment to another Immortal. Could he make one to her?

All thought was lost as Methos picked up his rhythm and Kanika began to meet him thrust for thrust. They kissed roughly as they both neared the zenith of their pleasure. Kanika was first to climax. She came calling to the gods and to Methos. She was already so tight that when her muscles contracted Methos could hardly breathe for the sparks that danced through his veins and over his skin. He came with a grunt and cry. He collapsed on top of Kanika too spent to pull out of her. Sparks continued to dance across both their skins as they tried to come back down. Kanika was the first to speak.

"Does this usually happen?" She inquired.

"What, love?" Methos had yet to open his eyes. He was unaware that the sparks he felt were visible. Small electric bolts danced across both of them.

"The lightning show."

He raised his head and looked down at her. "Huh?" Then, he noticed the sparks. "Not that I am aware of. I have never experienced anything like this." He became curious and worried as they showed no signs of slowing down or stopping. "Uh . . . Perhaps we should clean up?"

"I am quite content to stay exactly as we are. The sparks aren't hurting us and I don't think I could stand. Just stay right where you are." Methos started to argue when exhaustion caught him as well. Memories of their earlier fight came back to him as well as her current predicament. "Thank you, Methos, for everything you have done for me, especially tonight from the crying to the fighting to now. Thanks for showing me someone can love me."

He looked into her eyes. "I do, Kanika. I do. I always have. I just never realized how much that love had changed over the years."

"I love you, too, Old Man." She kissed him softly before closing her eyes to sleep. Methos smiled before repositioning them under the covers. He sprawled on his back with her using him as a pillow with their legs entangled and arms around each other. He shortly followed her into slumber but not before smirking at how MacLeod would react to this.

Morning found Kanika up and about at dawn. She showered and tidied up slowly and quietly. She had no intention of waking Methos. Her gut told her that he would not run from her, that he meant what he had said and implied. Nonetheless, her mind told her that it would not be that easy. Methos was a stubborn man set in his ways. Yes, he had indeed changed over the years, but could really have changed that much?

Around 08:30, she called to confirm her 13:00 meeting with the dean of the local college. Methos, she knew, would be tickled pink about her new position in the same school he himself had just begun teaching.

Knowing that Methos would probably sleep in, Kanika decided to go collect a few things and some breakfast. At first, she thought about leaving a note but decided she would make him squirm for all the times he had disappeared on her. She picked the phone up and ordered a taxi. By 09:00, she was well on her way to starting a new life in the small town of Seacover, no matter how short a life it may turn out to be.

Methos jarred awake at approximately 11:30. He looked around dazed at first. He took a minute to realize where he was, why, and what was missing. Grabbing his pants, he started to pull them on. He then really remembered what had transpired the night before. With a groan, he gathered his clothes and headed for the privy. He would kill her if she had fled from him, he just knew he would.

"That is what you want, Ma'am?" Samantha looked at the short, balding car salesman. He was giving her a curious and uncertain once over, yet again.

"Yes, it is. Does that bother you?" She dared the man to comment with her eyes. Apparently he was not paying attention to her eyes.

"Ye … I mean, no, Ma'am. It's just that I am not used to a lady such as yourself, especially being new in town, coming in with such an order."

"Look. Can you get them or not? I need to have variety. I can easily catch a ride to Seattle and take care of things there. You lose your commission and your boss loses some future business from myself and those I know."

"I can get them. Just . . . This money isn't loaded is it? You aren't some drug dealer or something are you?" Samantha sighed. She had been at this for almost an hour.

"No, you stupid little runt, I was born into and have earned more than this by far. Now, can we finish this? I have appointments I must keep!" Her temper flared causing the man to step back.

"Um . . . Yeah, just come and fill out the papers, Ma'am." He motioned to the office. She stalked past him but stopped to make him open the door for her. "So," he started as he pulled the forms from his desk, "you want a 2003 ebony XKR Jaguar convertible with charcoal interior, a black top, and adaptive cruise control. You also want a customized 2003 sienna pearl Jeep Wrangler Rubicon with dark slate gray vinyl high-back bucket seats and a black top. Plus a Epsom green New Range Rover fully equipped and a 2003 Yamaha FJR 1300 custom painted royal purple with black to blue flames. Lastly, you want a customized black 2003 Dodge Ram 2500 Quad Cab® Laramie 4X4 LWB with a custom paint job."

"Sounds right so far. The paint job is to consist of a blue and white horse on the door being chased by a large silver wolf with blood red eyes in front of the tire well. Bolts of lightning are to surround the two. A more detailed scene is to be placed on the tailgate. I have a sketch if you think it will be needed. Actually, I know it will be. Here," she said, passing the drawing to him. "So, when will the order be ready by best estimates?"

The man looked over her sketch. The detail and color were exceptional. "Well, the jeep and jaguar I can should have in a couple days. The dodge may take a little while. May be a week if they aren't busy. The Yamaha will probably take four or five days as well."

"Very well. I'll pay you half for each vehicle now and the other half when I receive each one." She looked over the order as the man checked his computer.

"We have the range rover you want here if you want it now."

"Yes, that will be fine." Glancing at her watch, Samantha realized she would be pushing it to find a place to pick up breakfast items. She prayed she could find a Denny's or some family owned business. Seeing as the time was 11:00, she knew Methos would be rising soon, if he had not already. She sighed and opened her small money-belt.

"Sign here, Ma'am, and we can go get your range rover." He handed her a pen.

"How much do I owe you now?" She asked double checking everything once more.

"It's right there, Ma'am."

"Ah, yes." She counted out the exact amount ($170,581.76) and handed the money and signed statement over to the salesman. "Shall we?" She stood and waited for the man to lead her to her range rover. He stood and opened the door.

"So, you are a doctor. What of?" The man attempted at small talk.

"I am to assume you are making small talk since the sale is through? I have a degree in many fields, actually. I have spent a great deal of time working to get where I am. But, my main field is philology." She glanced out of the corner of her eye. The man had no idea what philology was. Samantha smirked. "Philology is a very intriguing field of study. You never run out of reading material, that's certain."

"Sounds interesting from your tone. Well, here we are. Hope you enjoy her." The man seemed eager for her to leave. Not as eager as she was to leave, she was sure.

"Yes. I may be having a change in my phone number. I will call to let you know if I do. Until later, Sir, good day." She shook his hand, grabbed the keys, and drove away quickly. She still had to grab some food, return to the hotel, change clothes, bypass Methos, and get to the university. Then, she had to meet realtors.


	4. Chapter 4

At 12:04, Methos stepped out of the shower and frowned at his clothes. He wished he had something clean to put on. His shirt was cut and all of his clothes were bloody. He sighed and wrapped a towel around his waist before opening the bathroom door to dissipate the steam. Just as he could make out a blurry image in the mirror, he felt a presence nearing the door. He made a beeline for his sword despite knowing that it was probably Kanika. When a key twisted in the lock, he relaxed and returned to the bathroom.

"Gods, Old Man! How much hot water did you use?" Kanika called to him as she sat the food down on a small table near the door.

"Enough. Now where have you been?" He demanded as he walked back into the room. Kanika's breath caught as her eyes fell upon him. "Well?" Methos smirked when he noticed her distraction.

"Huh? Oh, I had to run some errands. Hungry?" She motioned to the food with a steaming cup of tea. Methos walked over casually noting that she followed him closely with her eyes. His mind stopped on a thought as he looked over the food. He was flirting with her. He had fallen into such an easy feeling as though they had been together for ages. As he selected an omelet and a cup of coffee, he realized that thrilled him and scared the hell out of him.

"So, what all did you have to do?" Methos joined her on the bed. She was staring idly off into nothing, deep in thought. She barely registered he had said anything at all. Her eyes flicked to her cup before jumping to the window.

"I had to acquire transportation and breakfast. The dumb ass salesman thought I was crazy and practically accused me of achieving my funds illegally. I was more than happy to inform him that he had no right and that I was one hell of a lot smarter than he. Fool has no clue what philology is." She smirked slightly before getting up and grabbing a cinnamon roll.

"Not many people do . . . Well, not many average people do. They just know of its subdivisions. Is that what you have your doctorate in?" He leaned back on the bed and watched as she nibbled at the roll and looked through her clothes. "You going somewhere else?"

"One of them and yes. I have an appointment at the university. Hope you don't have a problem with that." She selected a long red suede skirt and a slightly billowy off-white high necked button up blouse. She decided she should explain herself while putting on her jewelry and make-up. She didn't want him to think he was the only reason she was here though he was the main reason. "I actually have gotten several requests for my services recently. Including your lovely Watcher organization, ironically. But, I decided to check out this university while I am here. Some of the others have just wanted me because their departments need women. I told them where to stick their jobs, in a round about way. From what I have heard from Seacover is that they don't have much of a language department or a very good writings department. So, I told them I would greatly consider their offer. Doesn't pay much, but with my 'inheritance' I don't need much."

Methos decided to wait to tell her he was in the language department. "So, that's why you are really here? For a job? I mean besides seeking protection from whoever or whatever is after you." Methos looked slightly hurt, just for a split second.

"What!" Kanika was shocked and hurt, but mostly she was pissed by that comment. How could he think that after the previous evening and night? "I never came here to be protected! I told you about my problem so you can help me figure out how to fix it. How I can fix it! I also came to make sure that whatever my dreams are foretelling, that you are not hurt by whatever is to come. And, yes, I also came to see about the position at Seacover. But, you really want to know the real reason I am here? Do you honestly think you can handle it?

"I am here because of you. You, Methos. I couldn't take not being able to talk to or see you. I couldn't take not knowing if you were alright or in some kind of trouble. I couldn't take not knowing for sure that you were still alive. Most of all, I couldn't stand you not knowing how I have felt for you for so long. You, Methos. You are really why I am here. You have influenced all of my decisions on why I am here. You." Her voice was a whisper on the last word. She felt tired, yet relieved, after telling him. With a sigh, she grabbed her keys and purse. "Well, I have a one o' clock appointment to keep. Then, I have another errand to run. I'll see you at Joe's this evening?"

She stopped at the door and looked at him. He seemed to just be catching up with what she was saying. He stood and approached her. "Yeah, I'll be there around seven, but I have some things to do myself. Could we meet here around five thirty or six?"

"I think it would be best if our next conversation was not so private. We don't want to say anything that would hurt either of us." She made to open the door. Before she could, he grabbed her gently by the shoulders.

"Sagira… "

"Perhaps you could find something better to call me now? I mean if… " 'If what, Kanika? If you really do mean for us to become a couple?' She looked at her feet. She had never felt this uncertain around him before.

Methos sensed what was going through her mind. "Sanura then. I want you to know that I have no problem with you working at the university and that you will be protected whether you want to be or not. You aren't the only one that will be working there, you know?" He smiled down at her.

"Oh really, and just who else is working there?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Well, MacLeod and myself. I hope that isn't a problem for you." He kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

"No, of course not. I really need to be going." She opened her eyes and gave him a weak smile.

"Okay, but are you sure we can't meet back here before Joe's?" He moved a hand to caress her cheek with his thumb. "You alright?"

"I'm fine. We can meet here around five thirty. I should be done by then. I have to go; it's twelve thirty now." She started to pull away, but he caught her in an embrace and kissed her. Her first impulse was to fall in his arms and stay there, but she knew she was going to be late if she didn't go. So, she kissed him back for just a moment before pulling back. "I have to go, Methos." She gave him a peck on the cheek then fled the room. Once outside, she leaned against the door to catch her breath. Gods the effect that man had on her!

Methos was feeling similarly as he slid into his bloody, dirty pants. He knew there was no turning back now. He could feel the severity of their new relationship. The fact that they had taken so long to get together shocked him now that they were. He could tell that the feelings had been there for a very long time. Taking a deep breath, Methos grabbed the rest of his clothes and shoes. He didn't put them on, just carried them. He then fished out his keys and got into his truck. His first stop was home to change clothes. Then, he had to see about finding out about Kanika's pursuers and her dreams.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Your résumé is quite impressive, Dr. Adams. I am quite shocked that you would be interested in our school." The dean read over her degrees and specialties yet again.

"Well, honestly, I am looking for a school that needs me. I have had a lot of offers, but many have been either interested in my gender or had no use for me as they already had qualified instructors. Your school needs someone to help in my fields of study. Some of the courses I am qualified to teach you do not even offer. I would like to work with you to improve your selection of courses as well as test scores of those already taking the courses you wish for me to teach." Samantha smiled sweetly at him.

"I must be honest as well and say that I would be honored to have you working here. The new semester starts in just a few weeks. I trust you can start then?"

"I'm ready to start anytime."

"Okay. I'll get you a list of students, their courses, and course schedule. I'll get you course essentials as well. You can let me know your plans for the courses when you start." He smiled and stood. "I am pleased to welcome you on board. Once the semester starts I may see about making you the head of the language department."

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes… "

"Don't worry about that. If you are more qualified, you will have the position. The other professors will have to accommodate themselves to the fact."

"Very well. I will contact you in a week or so then, unless of course you need me before hand. Um . . . Two of my friends, I found out this morning, seem to also be employees here. A Mr. Duncan MacLeod and a Mr. Adam Pierson?"

"Yes. Indeed they are. They are friends of yours?" He seemed kind of shocked.

"I have known them both for quite some time. Adam longer than Duncan."

"Well, if you get that leading position, you will be working over Mr. Pierson." He smiled at her sudden smirk.

"That, my dear sir, would be worth stepping on toes. I really must be going. I have realtors to see. Call me if you need to know anything or if something changes. Do you want me to pick up those papers now or later?" She slung her purse over her shoulder.

"Now will be fine. I have a folder fixed up for you out at my secretaries desk. I'll see you out." He smiled warmly and placed a hand at her lower back as they stepped out of his office. "I hope your stay, however long, is a pleasant one. I also hope your stay is a long one. We could really use someone with your skills and expertise."

They stopped at his secretaries desk. She handed him the folder for Samantha. He, in turn, handed it to Samantha. "Thank you, sir. I am sure that my stay may indeed be lengthy. I plan to make the most of it and do the best I can for the students here. Until we speak again." She nodded her head and turned to leave. As she was leaving the building, she felt eyes on her. However, when she looked, no one seemed to be behind her. She quickened her pace to her range rover. Though she saw no one, she was sure someone or thing had been there. With a deep sigh, she turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. She had another appointment to keep. The folder of papers was placed in the passenger seat momentarily forgotten. The page sticking out on one of the students, Mac Seth, unnoticed.


	5. Chapter 5

Just before she turned down the street for the first place the realtor had on today's agenda, her cell phone pierced the air with a sequence of shrill musical tones. She found that odd since so few had the number. Hesitantly, Samantha answered, "Dr. Samantha Adams."

"Sam, it's Chris. I need to talk to you about that text you were looking at for the British Museum." A warm female voice with a slight British accent answered back.

"Chris, I have not yet finished it. What exactly do you need to ask me?" Samantha asked flatly. She had been hoping to prolong any business other than settling down for at least a few days. Of course, she knew somehow that she would not get that luxury.

"Well, we have recently received loose documents from two separate locations that seem to make reference to that text. I was wondering if you have had the chance to settle in enough for me to ship them to you as I realize you coming here would be out of the question."

"You are damn bloody straight it would! I am on my way to look at a property as we speak. So, no, I have yet to come up with a place of residence. However, I do have friends in town. I can get you one of their addresses. You can ship them there. Would that work for you?" Samantha barely noticed she was coming off a little pissy. Chris did not take it personally. She knew Samantha well enough to know anything could make her act rather rude.

"Fine. Call me as soon as you can. From what we have figured out, it seems as though they refer to some kind of immortal beings and how one of them is the key to some great divine prophecy. Whatever is being referred to, we believe that the prophecy is about due." Chris knew of Immortals. She was one herself and had been for about a hundred and forty years. She was also aware of Samantha's recent abduction attempts. Samantha was her teacher.

"And you think it may have something to do with my problems? I'll get you that address tonight, Chris. Sorry for being so bitchy. I am just sick of always having something come up and interrupt any attempt I make at having some peace. I can't even get a few days off." Samantha pulled onto a well kept gravel driveway. She sighed. She was doing it again.

"It's alright, Sam. I understand. I didn't want to bother you, but when I heard what they thought the documents were about I thought you should know. I then cleared them so you can have them until you figure the whole puzzle out." Samantha could hear Chris' smile of patience.

"Have I always been this bitchy?"

"Yes." Chris answered simply without any time for thought.

"Why don't you deliver the documents personally via my jet? I don't want to trust them with curriers. Just call the pilot and give him my codes. Tell him to call me if there's a problem." Samantha felt it was the least she could do.

"I would love to! I'll see you tonight then?" Chris sounded exulted. She had not been to the States for quite some time. Not to mention she wanted to meet Methos, though she didn't know he was Methos. All Chris knew was that Samantha had gone off to find an old friend so she could put some past farther behind her; that and she wanted to see about taking a position at Seacover University.

"Yeah. I'll pick you up in Seattle tonight if you can't land in Seacover. Call and let me know when you will land . . ."

"I'll rent a car and drive. I don't want to be a pain before I even officially get to Seacover. I'll meet up with you somewhere in town. I am sure it won't be hard to track you down. I figure you may be exotic there."

"Not as much as you think. I'll see you tonight then. There's a bar called Joe's. Meet me there. Good day, Christiana."

"Good day, Samantha, until tonight." Samantha waited until she knew Chris had hung up then ended the call. She tossed the phone on top of the folder the dean had given her. With a sigh, she shut off the range rover and stepped out. She had arrived at the house a minute or so before she finished speaking with Chris. The realtor stood waiting for her at the front door.

"Miss Adams?" The balding, elderly gentleman asked.

"Doctor actually but yes. I believe we talked yesterday afternoon after Mr. Jenson got confused with my specifications. Mr. Crawford, correct?" Samantha extended her hand. The man took it with a firm yet shaky grip.

"Yes, Ma'am. I believe this place will fit them all. The main floor has living, bath, dining, kitchen, den, and two guest rooms. The second floor has three bed, a bath and a recreational room. The third floor has a large library and an office as well as the master bedroom. The front lawn as you see is large, and the back is at least four times as large. There is also a basement and back deck on the first floor and a balcony on the third floor. As you requested there is several acres of forest, mainly behind. I hope that's alright?" He took a breath and looked for her reply.

"I am surprised that you found one to fit so well so quickly." Samantha looked around appreciatively. "This will do quite nicely, Mr. Crawford."

"Well, this place has been up on market for a long time. The sellers will be happy to hear we have finally sold. Most people don't want to live way out here or they didn't want to pay too much. I brought the paper work so we wouldn't have to drive clear back to town to finalize this, well except for filing that is, which I can take care of the moment I get back." Mr. Crawford gestured with his clipboard.

"Very well. Shall we step inside then?" Samantha raised her hand to indicate the door. The man nodded and they stepped inside. The rooms were all slightly furnished with just the bare essentials. Samantha stopped to look around as Mr. Crawford found a surface to spread the papers so they could go over them and she could sign.

"When you are ready, Dr. Adams, I have the papers ready for you with all of your preferences, I believe." Samantha glanced at him then moved to read over the papers, which she did quickly yet proficiently.

"Do you have a pen?" Samantha held out her hand without looking up. The pen landed there and she signed. "I do believe that covers it save for payment which is right here." She pulled a large zipped envelope out of her inside coat pocket. The money-belt she had earlier did not go with her outfit she felt. Mr. Crawford watched as she double-checked the amount, after counting it out, so he could see it was all there. Then she zipped the envelope and handed him the money. She placed the envelope back into her coat. "I believe that covers everything, Mr. Crawford. The deed, if you would?" She held out her hand and he gladly handed over a large folder after he put the payment into a similar envelope.

"Well, here are the keys. I will leave you to yourself and go file this. Good day, Dr. Adams." Mr. Crawford smiled warmly at her then seemed to rush from the house.

"He seemed a little too anxious to sell and get out of here. I wonder . . ." Samantha looked around. She would have to go shopping. Chris would love to help and she was certain Methos wouldn't. Though, he would love sitting back and bossing people around. With a groan, she locked the door and left. She barely noticed the strange breeze that hit her as she walked toward her car. When she looked around and saw nothing, she shrugged and started the range rover. However, she had a funny feeling something was off. She shook her head and headed for town.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Find anything yet, Joe?" Methos asked for what Joe felt was the hundredth time.

"No, dammit. I'll tell you the second I do. Now, why don't you be useful and shut up." Joe glared at him before returning his gaze to his computer. Methos suddenly stood.

"Gotta go, Joe. Call me the second you find out anything. I don't care if it is important or not." With that, he was out the door and gone. Joe watched after him confused. He didn't understand why he had run off like that. A knock at his office door brought him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Mac. What can I do for you?" Joe smiled at his Immortal.

"Well, I just stopped by to see what everyone was up to. Why'd Methos take off like that?" MacLeod sat down across from his Watcher as Joe shrugged and typed at his keyboard.

"Don't know. He was driving me nuts so I can't say I am not glad for the sudden peace." Joe's eyes narrowed as he noticed a bulletin.

"Problem?" Duncan sat forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Archaeologists have recovered documents pertaining to a prophecy about immortal beings or a specific one. These documents are to be seized if found. The British Museum has possession of them but they have been signed out so a doctor of philology may decipher their exact meaning. Also in this doctor's possession is a large bound text that could be about the same thing. The Watcher's Council is to be advised the moment a Watcher becomes aware of the location of said documents and text."

"Hmmm. Perhaps Methos may know who the doctor could be." Duncan said.

"Yeah, I should probably call him." Joe rolled his eyes as he grabbed for the phone.


End file.
